whispers of rebellion seduce him so
by busy pushing up daisies
Summary: He downs the drink just to feel the burn and ignores the fair haired girl beside him, muttering of golden gaps and a small little pretty bird trapped in her hand like a tight cage.


-Whispers of rebellion seduce him so-

He downs the drink just to feel the burn and ignores the fair haired girl beside him, muttering of golden gaps and a small little pretty bird trapped in her hand like a tight cage.

* * *

The first time he visits her grave, it's littered with fresh pink flowers, and he ignores the small little twist in his stomach, and pretends the flowers aren't the exact shade of that damn pink. He dresses for the occasion, just to look presentable, but there's no point because he visits when it's dark out, and it's completely vacant.

He flattens the neatly kept grass with his bottom with an ungraceful thump and stares around him, runs his hand over the cold grey stone, words that hold no interest for Haymitch because he never knew her, anyways. He's delayed this visit for a very long time, he sighs, and closes his eyes, thinking of young naïve men who think they've won (and you did, you did, you've fooled the Capitol in their own game, the barrier, and hey you missed, bitch) but you've lost in your victory and everyone's gone gone gone.

"Isn't it a little late?"

Haymitch starts, the voice is familiar but he relaxes when they come into view. The other girl. A twin. She stares at the stone almost longingly before settling beside him.

"Isn't it a little late for a little girl like you?" he snarls, looking away, because it feels like he's invading a private moment between a twin and a stone, and isn't that just so freaking stupid?

She cracks a dry laugh that's not funny at all and replies, "It's always too late." And great, now everything's depressing. "Huh," he says.

It's silent, crickets chirping, moon lighting, and he doesn't know how long they sit there, a twin and a man, tired and mourning in their own way.

Suddenly, she reaches in her pocket and takes out something that glows in her hand. It's familiar, a heart wrenching familiar thing, and Haymitch can't look away.

Maysilee's token. A small pretty bird, mockingjay, a pin.

The twin notices and smiles grimly at him, "Take it."

"What?"

She shoves it in his hands, "Take it, it's yours."

He would object but she seems so set in her decision and why not? It's something to hold on to in the upcoming days, the gold disappears in his palm.

Again she reaches in her pocket for something else, and the object gives Haymitch a little start, morphine. His eyes widen when she jabs it in her arm harshly, not even wincing, she must've practiced a lot before. She throws the hypodermic needle to the side.

She gives a little relieved sigh, as if all of life's problems have washed away and Haymitch eyes the needle for a very long time. And if he didn't have such a phobia for long sharp things maybe-

She offers him some, but there's this strange little look in her eyes and Haymitch politely declines. People have different ways of coping.

…

Later he hears about the mayor's wife living in a bed, mind stolen from drugs.

Maybe, on that night by the stone, he could've- (you don't live on maybe's anymore).

…

The first time Haymitch sees her, it's in passing, not even dramatic or some voodoo shit like that. He's sprawled in an alley, back against the brick (and you have a perfectly usable house in that empty neighborhood), and not even attempting to clean up. And the streets are busy again, markets open, people flourishing- and everybody ignores the coal setting on the food, windows, and faces, everywhere.-

He turns his head right at the exact moment that she walks by, silhouette lit up by the light, and gosh if he didn't believe in ghosts.

Later, when he sobers enough, he inquires about her.

The mayor's daughter, everyone answers, indulging in his strange question because a sober Haymitch was rare.

The mayor's daughter.

He shovels through his room and finds it, finally.

Maysilee's token. The dust has captured the bird's feathers and Haymitch wipes it off sluggishly.

Madge Undersee, that's her name.

…

He visits again, a bottle clutched tightly in one hand, another rubbing the back of his greasy hair(he hasn't taken care of it, for a while). It's dark out, people scurrying inside what primitive safety their homes provide, and really no one should be there.

But she's there, sitting with her knees tucked under her arms, staring at the stone almost wistfully.

He turns to leave but then she speaks up.

"Stay." And there's something in her voice.

He stays.

She glances at him, blue eyes bright even in the darkness, "My mother talks about you."

And doesn't everybody? But there's something flattering about a practically comatose woman talking about a man she's only ever met in person once.

"Oh?" he replies, "about me?"

Madge nods and straightens, "Says you knew my aunt." Haymitch assumes she's watched those games.

"Huh," Haymitch says, rubs the stubble that he didn't notice before.

The talk about inane things afterwards and Haymitch should but he doesn't return the pin (you're selfish).

…

Another games, ended. Another pair of wimps, destroyed.

Haymitch closes his eyes and tries to banish their faces from his mind, the girl's shy nervous smile and the boy's bright scared eyes, and really he knew they were goners from the start- but isn't everybody?-

Something wet touches his face. Maybe some dog searching for scraps or decided that he was as good as any but it's not. He opens his eyes to a fair haired girl, face calm and collected, scrubbing his face clean with a wet rag. He tries to protest but his body won't respond and neither does the girl when she hears his incomprehensible garble.

The pin is heavy in his pocket.

Haymitch closes his eyes and laughs as Madge rubs off any evidence of last night and they're dead(never coming back, the girl and the boy, and what have you done?)

He wakes up in his bedroom that he never sleeps in with cracks in the ceiling and a dump for a kitchen.

The pin is heavy in his pocket.

…

She visits, a lot. Haymitch doesn't know how she knows where he lives (it's just one house from twelve, it's not that hard, actually) but she does and she comes on the weekends (figures, she doesn't have to worry about working and starving, like you used to, and you're starting to forget as well) and he doesn't say anything. Just sits on the creaking stool and watches as she examines his room and grabs a broom and a rag.

Every time, he purposefully trashes the room, but when she leaves it's spotless and he clutches the mockingjay in his hand tightly.

Before Madge leaves, he plops a small bag pouring with gold on the counter. Her head turns at the sound and she stares at him, he hates the look but he hates owing more.

"Take it," he says gruffly, shoving the bag in her direction.

She raises an eyebrow.

"Take it, it's yours."

Madge gives him a smile lined with pity and retorts, "I'm the mayor's daughter, its alright, Haymitch." And in one statement, she's taken the cat from the bag and sliced it. She must know what he thinks of her. A spoiled little brat who doesn't know what she's doing, but he's stopped thinking like that a long time ago.

He hesitates, before reaching for his pocket. She watches him curiously and her eyes widen just a fraction when he presents the golden bird.

"It's not mine, anyways," he says and offers it to her. Madge gives him a hard look, as if sizing him up, before taking it. Her eyes are bright as she runs her fingers over the figure and for the first time she gives him a genuine smile.

There's a small part of Haymitch that's afraid she'll leave forever now, stolen by pretty birds, never to return, and all he can do is hold on to her hand tightly.

She come's the next day though, just doesn't clean the house, and Haymitch is perfectly fine with that.

…

Reaping day is near.

Haymitch downs the bottle just to feel the burn and ignores the fair haired girl beside him, muttering of golden gaps and pretty little birds.

Madge whispers about a golden gap, a ridge between the poor and the rich, between the laborious and the educated.

"It's what they want, Haymitch," she says almost with excited fervor, "we're too busy fighting and resenting the other to see the bigger picture."

There's no point in shushing her, she won't listen. But it's okay, Madge is bright enough to stay quiet in public and Haymitch has broken off any communication from the Capitol in his house, so it's fine.

"And I've noticed something else," she almost hisses in his ears, "I want to show you something." Madge walks over to the dusty television set and presses the power button. Quickly, she slips in a tape and Haymitch's mind churns with anxiety.

It's District 13. Shit.

She pauses the frame and jabs a finger in the corner, "Look, you see that bird?"

"Maybe," he says.

Madge rolls her eyes and puts in another tape and once again, a finger at that bird.

"What of it?" Haymitch queries, stumbling to the refrigerator for another drink. It's empty, great.

"Isn't that just a little suspicious? Why use the same scene over and over again? It wouldn't take that much time to get another tape right? Unless, there's something they're hiding from us. Something they're deliberately withholding from us, about District 13."

Haymitch takes a deep breath, because she isn't wrong, but she doesn't need to know, shouldn't know, would only bring more trouble for sure.

"I think you're reading too much into this, honey, they're just too lazy to go to that dump of a district, that's all."

Madge crosses her arms, frowns at him but doesn't bring it up anymore. He's glad.

Before reaping day, he places the pin on her pretty little dress.

"Do me a favor will you?"

"What?"

"Wear this for me."

She gives him a look, but doesn't protest. She knows the significance of the small token, and yes, whispers of rebellion have seduced her too.

…

"I volunteer, I volunteer as tribute!"

It's wrong and he's drunk but he's just so undeniably grateful that the fair haired girl hadn't taken the stage and –

"More spunk than you!" He points at the camera and topples off the stage.

…

Madge knows the significance of the pin and she won't let it go to waste.

Katniss is a little surprised to see her, which is a little hurtful since they were kind of friends, right?

Anyways, she urges the girl to wear it, for me okay?

Gives a kiss on the cheek and is gone.

She marches straight to another room in the hallway.

…

He has a welt on his forehead that Madge prods with a damp washcloth and frowns at. Meanwhile, Haymitch notices something.

"Where's the pin?"

"Gave it to Katniss."

"Huh."

She gives him a kiss on the cheek too.

…

Haymitch won't lie, the pin looks better on Katniss (only because the huntress looks better dead, too and you are a very selfish man, but it doesn't change the fact that Madge isn't here and this girl has the pin and Madge is back at home, safe).

It doesn't change anything, though.

The bombs take her away.

…

You shouldn't be mad at Katniss, have no right, but you are and Madge is deaddeaddead.

You know another girl who would have been more than happy to take on the wings, and fly away, instead the task falls to a selfish girl (and in that way you are the same) who'd rather burn the wings than fly.

"I'm not selfish am I?" you say to empty air. The war's over and everything's gone. Not even the stone.

"Not anymore," the fair haired girl smiles and you down the drink just to feel the burn. Just to feel alive.

(Not ash, buried under mounds of dirt, and the fire is the last thing you see. You close your eyes and think of a mockingjay, the sound of wings flapping. It produces a nice sense of closure.)

* * *

**A/N:** Hope you liked it. This isn't supposed to be Haymitch/Madge romantic wise but could be seen as such, maybe. Again, found this in my old journal, decided to share it. There's a lot of transition changes, and it might be confusing whose point of view it is (although it's obvious to me) sorry about that. Also, hope you don't mind the extensive use of parentheses. Review if you liked, review if you didn't. I'd really appreciate it :)


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